


To Catch a Guide REDUX

by yakuit



Category: Supernatural, Teen Wolf (TV), The Sentinel
Genre: Abduction, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Sentinels and Guides Are Known, Angst, Captivity, Custody, Escape, Forced Bonding, Fugitives, Hunted, Hunting, Hurt/Comfort, Male stiles, Other, Protective Custody, Protective Dean Winchester, Protective Derek, Running Away, Sentinel/Guide, Sentinel/Guide Bonding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-10
Updated: 2013-11-04
Packaged: 2017-12-14 13:44:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/837557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yakuit/pseuds/yakuit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not all Guides are sweet and lightness<br/>Not all Guides come willingly.<br/>Not all bonds are the same<br/>Sometimes the bond between sentinels and Guides can be more than even the sentinels realise.<br/>(Male Stiles)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Guide & Zone out

**Author's Note:**

> Male stiles cos u asked for it xx

Blood everywhere, covering everything. He whimpered as he crawled backwards, feet siding in bloody pools of gore. 

‘Do not look’, the voice whispered. 

He looked anyhow and then screamed a silent howl of the damned. For that surely is what he was now. 

‘He deserved it, remember, remember, remember…..’ The voice murmured insistently, maniacally in his ear. 

He keened to himself rocking himself backwards and forwards. 

‘Get up, get up, get up, GET UP, GET UP… there will be here soon “. The voice so familiar to him as it demanded and cajoled until finally like an automation he got to his feet. His eyes darting to the other room, the hidden room where the trap door was, perhaps he should, perhaps….

‘No, No, No, No….Nooooooo’ the voice rose to a crescendo before issuing new instructions, ‘Burn it, Burn it, Burn it all down’. 

The boy his face blank nodded, his eyes darted around, ignoring the bloody lump of meat on the floor, pretending it was something else, anything else. Staggering to the kitchen he quickly cut the gas line, turning to the microwave he tilted his head it may not be necessary but why leave things to chance. He placed a metal tin inside and then set the microwave on timer mode. 

Holding the crook of his arm over his mouth to avoid the fumes as he collected other small essentials of what he would need. Distasteful as it was he snagged HIS coat and boots, they were far too large for him but they would do until he could find something better. More importantly it would also hide his scent for awhile at least. On the sideboard was a wallet and his truck keys. He took those too. It took mere seconds to unlock the door and then he was free. Finally FREE.

The icy wind blasted him face and for almost a second he felt sheer terror of the unknown and an almost overwhelming need to run back, run back to his …  
The voice cut through his fear “RUN, run fast, run far, run long, they will come for you’, it added ominously. 

He scrambled to the truck, it took 3 attempts before it started, he had never driven a stick before and he winced as the truck whined and protested every time he changed gears. By the time he reached the intersection he was reasonable confident he could drive the truck without causing undue interest. Behind him on the mountainside there was a large whoosh of air and then flames shot up. Briefly it illuminated his face, Stiles smiled. 

He was free at last and his name was Stiles and nobody would ever take that away from him again. 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++  
The fire crews were already rolling away the hoses when he pulled up. They had done their job, but so had the fire and there was nothing left of the very pretty cottage he remembered from his youth, just a burnt out husk. His hands clenched on the wheel as he steeled himself for what lay ahead. Murder was always difficult but when you knew the victim even more so. As prime alpha sentinel he had received the alert call in the early hours of the morning. It was a sentinel matter now.  
A shout from the ruined entrance way of the house caught his attention. Wishing briefly he had brought Blair with him, instead he had left him snuggled down and warm at home. Knowing what lay ahead of him he didn’t regret his decision, but still he would miss his calming presence. Heaving himself from out the car he was accosted almost immediately by his second in command.

"It’s bad chief".

Ellison growled, "Brief me? Are you sure its murder?"

"The axe sticking out from the victims head was our first clue", Derek remarked sardonically, before his face turned serious again, "The fires done its work so the coroner apart from confirming death, wouldn't say anything more but the body was pretty much in pieces a real hack job... I know he will need formally identified but I smelled him myself it is Sentinel Peter Hale.

Ellison closed his eyes briefly, any hope for going home in time for breakfast and maybe waking Blair up from a peaceful slumber were immediately shattered. Damnit.

"Luckily one of the fire crews had a sentinel on duty. He sensed the situation and automatically locked down the area as a sentinel crime scene. Only sentinel personnel have been inside. Victim was last seen at 11pm leaving Barney's Bar. The explosion was called in by neighbours at 1am, here’s the briefing from the statements we have taken so far".

Ellison briefly read over the concise report grunting his approval, his second had as usual done an excellent job. "Check the back roads and you will need to call Dean in on this".  
Derek gave him a resigned nod before striding away. Hiding no doubt his irritation at having to call his rival in but he was one of the best damn hunters in the western hemisphere.

Sighing Ellison had a bad feeling this case was going to get real messy. He walked through the crime scene, carefully letting the sentinel forensics do their job only calling out areas he wanted rechecked. He winced when he saw the kennels behind the house, the blackened husks all piled at the gate as thought they had desperately tried to escape. What sort of psycho would torch helpless animals. For that matter what sort of Psycho could get the jump on an alpha sentinel. 

He turned and walked back into the house. His senses fully extended then growling in irritation. Between the fire damage, smoke and foam there was an overload. He would have to come back later. Goddamnit. The kitchen was a disaster, however although the explosion had occurred here by some strange coincidence apart from a flash fire, it was more or less intact unlike the rest of the house. He watched carefully as forensics photographed the cleanly cut gas lines, one eyebrow rising as he realised the significance of the exploded can lying in the remains of the microwave. Interesting.

Moving back into the hallway, he hunkered down onto his haunches trying to forget that the pieces in front of him were once the man he used to call uncle and had given him swimming lessons. They had fallen out years ago over Blair, but perhaps he should have tried harder to mend the bridges. His eyes hardened and he swore then to do everything in his power to bring his killer to justice.

He moved swiftly then his mind already working trying to fit the puzzle pieces together, working out a plan of action. It was then he realised what was missing from the drive way. He smiled grimly maybe this could be over by breakfast.

"Listen up folks. All non-sentinel personnel need to leave immediately". There was a few mumbled grumbles but within minutes cars were driving away and even the fire crew had departed hastily. Nobody wanted to get caught up in a sentinel hunt.

Ellison waited patiently until the area was secure. Before turning to his crew. They looked up at him eyes glittering, faces hard. The death of a sentinel even one that had all but excommunicated himself had hit them hard.

"This is hunt and it’s a sentinel matter. I want a complete blackout on all information and news on this. He paused patiently until the surprised mumble of voices petered out, waited until he had everybody's complete attention.

"Now listen up folks. The victim Sentinel Peter Hale was last seen leaving Barneys at 11pm its a 30 minute drive at best. The explosion was called in at 1am - so time of death is between 11.30-1am. Morris take your guide down to Barney's see what you can find out, who he talked to, if he left with anybody see if they have cctv. Hustle people out of bed if you have to. He had an old prewar volvo truck - a red one, its missing. Sally I need the plates numbers asap. The trucks old, top speed in these hills is probably 25mph. Derek get roadblocks set up you and an APB out know the drill. The unsub will probably ditch it but he’s panicking not thinking straight. My guess is we are looking at a young unsub late teens early twenties, and folks I am pretty sure the unsub's a sentinel so proceed with all caution and he or he should only be approached by a take down team. Dean Winchester will be on scene", he glanced over at Derek who scowling nodded that he had contacted Dean obviously that conversation had not gone well if Derek’s face was any indication. "Dean Winchester will be in charge of the hunt and takedown".

As he issued further instructions and orders, he surveyed his team. Good sentinels and guides, he would lay down his life for them and he knew they would do the same. He couldn’t ask for any better. He nodded in satisfaction. "Times against us and the clocks ticking - move it".

A whirl of activity, as his team sped into orderly action. They had a mandate now, this is what they trained for and they were damn good at their job. He had made sure of that!  
"Derek with me". Ellison motioned towards the house away from team.

“Yes Sir.”

"You have questions son?”

“How, I mean I know you knew the victim, but I couldn’t get anything in the house just too damn overload to the senses.”

“You have good sentinel instincts Derek, and that will stand you in good stead. But you are also a police investigator you have other skills use them too”. Ellison heaved a sigh “but a lot of it’s because I knew or used to anyhow know Peter Hale”.

“Sir?”

"Peter despised non sentinels - humans, guides, beta's you name it the man was a xenophobe of the worst type. It’s why I have had no contact with him in 15 years. He wasn’t always like that but after his wife died he changed. No way would he invite a non-sentinel back to his house”.

“And who else but a sentinel could get the drop on another sentinel. The attack is vicious and out of control. An older sentinel would have been more co-ordinated. The last blow to the head the axe got stuck ether the unsub did not have the strength to pull it out or more likely just gave up. All hallmarks of an unbonded juvenile sentinel”.  
Ellison crouched down beside some deep gouges in the snow covered dirt track “Tell me what do you see”.

Derek frowned and then leaned down, his eyes distant as he focused. It took him less than thirty seconds and then he straightened with a grin as he suddenly got it. Ellison was impressed the kid was good. 

“Tyres dug in too much, too much gas not enough clutch control. He panicked and tried to apply more here, then skidded, braked too hard, stalled and then restarted”, he laughed “either a learner driver or just recently passed.”

Ellison nodded in approval, “It’s easier for me as I have Blair to ground myself even if he’s not here in person,” he stopped and turned to Derek “I want you to take lead investigator with Dean as your point man.”

Derek looked up at him in shock.

Ellison smiled in grim amusement, “I have my reasons”. 

   
************************

Dean drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, his head bobbing in time with the heavy bass of Jimi Hendrix as he purred along the back road. This was the life, an empty road, his baby, Jimi Hendrix and oh yeah a murdering sentinel scumbag. Christmas had come early! And the frosting on the top was he would get to see Derek again, he did so enjoy yanking his chain, it maybe hadn’t worked out between them both but those strong feelings of connection were still there. So they covered it with macho posturizing and good old fashioned pigtail yanking. And Dean was master at this. He smiled happily as he remembered Derek’s phonecall to him. Ha they needed him, he couldn’t wait till…. 

“WHAT THE HELL….” He yanked on the steering wheel narrowly missing a large pick up that had come out of nowhere, driving in the middle of the road. He could swear he could feel the 2 wheels of his car almost left up as he hurtled along the gravel roadside. He slammed on the horn, swearing at incompetent drivers, wishing he had time to go back and book that bastard. 

“stupid inbred hillybillies”, he cursed watching in his rear view mirror as the pick up raced away. 

“Hold on a…” he muttered.

“Pick up – check.”

“Red – Check”, Hmmm he flicked open his mobile.

“Hey that unsub was he driving erratically a red pickup licence plate SPH 100?”

“yeah, how did you…”

“Whooo Hooo. Don’t worry sweetcheeks this will be over by brunch - Daddy is on the case”.

“Dean?, DEAN? Dont you ….DEAN … what’s your location?”

“ssssss… sssss… oh you are breaking up I cant hear you… shhshhhs shshhh.” Dean grinned manically as he flipped the phone off. Ha that would get Derek’s panties in a twist.  
He did a textbook reverse turn, his baby behaving perfectly as with a squeal of brakes and then a throaty roar that made his blood quicken, they almost took off as they raced back along the road after their prey. He cranked up the music. This is what he lived for!!! Hoooooo RAAAA.

It only took a minute to catch up to the unsub, who was a spectacular bad driver. He rolled down the window and attached his small portable siren. Flicking the switch to alert his target that the game was up. Time to play scumbag! 

He beeped to indicate he should pull over, the unsub responded by trying to pull away, his driving even more erratic as he panicked. Piece of cake he thought to himself as he grinned crazily.

His sentinel senses extended to the fullest, reaction times faster than a mongoose. He calculated the exact moment …. And then with a hungry growl, the impala shot forward, speeding into the gap and overtaking the pick up. The unsub tried to ram him as he went past not realising how the road bent to the left, as Dean expected he misjudged missing his car completely , he caught a glimpse of panicked frightened eyes as the truck careered off the road and down the embankment. 

Whoops”, commented Dean nonchalantly as he skidded to a stop. He took a few seconds to clip his badge to his jacket, and the jumping out crouched low his favourite piece held firmly in a 2 handed grip. The safety off. 

He slid down the embankment noting with glee the position of the pick up. 

“This is the Police put your hands on your head and don’t move motherfucker”, he barked out, alpha authority in every word. 

He stilled and listened, the soft hiss of the radiator, he extended his sense further. There a scrape, the soft pitter patter of small stones being dislodged. Cursing he barely gave the empty pick up a glance as he slithered down the slope. Ahead at the bottom was steel shiny train tracks. He caught a glimpse of a slender small figure as it darted into the train tunnel. 

“Goddammit”, he hesitated wondering if he should call this in - an unbonded juvenile sentinel? Nah not a chance. Besides the unsub looked titchy maybe a beta sentinel .

He moved fast not wanting to give his target a chance to dig in or get further away. Oh this was a fun hunt. Adrenalin was racing through him it was almost a shame this was going to come to an end so quickly. 

His eyes already adjusting to the gloom of the tunnel, he edged forward softly, a hunters walk, soft, quiet, deliberate. His senses all tuned into the slightest variation.  
“This is the Police, I’m giving you one chance to come out kid, I will shoot and I will shoot to Kill.”

He paused – Nothing.

“It’s the end of the road, just make this easy for yourself and come forward.” His voice echoed crazily in the tunnel making his senses jangle unpleasantly.  
Still no answer, not that he had expected any from this murdering scum. 

As he moved forward, he caught the slight hum from the rail tracks. Head tilted to the side he considered – a goods train – a good 5 minutes away. Piece of cake this would be over in two. 

There a breath, then another, a frantic heart beat like a bird caught in a trap, the faint stale smell of sweat and fear and the sharp tang of blood. He frowned something was not right here. He moved towards the sound, ignoring the train tracks beneath him as he pinpointed the unsubs position. His sentinel senses all working in perfect symmetry. It was almost beautiful. Then he felt it the sweet heady mental aura of an unbonded Guide. A strong one at that. 

“Holy Shit”. He whispered to himself.

A soft whimper answered him, and Dean’s heart constricted. He switched the safety off. Letting his gun fall to his side. Holding his free hand out he entreated gently. “ Hey its okay, I am not going to hurt you, you can come out now.”

Another whimper and then a weak snarl, “Go away, Go away.” The voice ridiculously young.

“Sweetheart you know I cannot do that.” He soothed, adding just a touch of authority to his voice. “Come on come with me, there’s a train coming and we need to get you to safety. My car is warm and I have hot chocolate in a themos.” 

“Go away, I don’t want to hurt you… please.”

Dean rolled his eyes, god save him from hysterical guides. He was an alpha sentinel for God’s sake. He was close now just one more step and he would be in grabbing distance. Now he knew he wasn’t dealing with a sentinel he could go a bit faster the Guide was probably as bind as a bat in this cave and weak. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry….so sorry.”

“Its okay, everything will be okay”, he promised. He reached behind him for his cuffs, better do this quick and get it over with. 

He felt the guide mentally reach him, and despite himself he momentarily hesitated, the feeling of rightness of this felt good. His sentinel senses wide open as he let the guide in.  
A SHRIEKING SCREAM, pain exploding in his brain, white out as his senses began to switch off. His last conscious though was ZONE OUT. Which was pretty damn unhelpful as the world seemed to freeze.

He was aware on some level as the rumbling got louder, the rail tracks vibrating audibly now. The screams of the guide telling him to move his ass. Then a warm soft body hitting him, his head making a sickening crack against the steel tracks, as he was rolled out of harm’s way, then gravel digging into his cheek. The guide crying hysterically against him clutching him tight, his cheek deathly cold against his. Warm salty tears fell on his face, tracking down until they reached the crease of his lips. And then darkness.

Stiles sobbed in pure fear as the train thundered past, its passage whisking the hat off his bald stubbly head. Its passage a mere inches from their bodies.  
It took him too long to move once the train had passed clasping the sentinel close to him like a lifeline. Shivering he rolled away retching to the side. Before standing up to survey the sentinel. He had heard of zone outs and he knew he had done something very very bad to this sentinel. And not just any sentinel, a cop sentinel and an alpha one at that if he didn’t miss his guess. And what was he doing pursuing a dangerous criminal without back up. Did he not know police procedure or was he such an arrogant bastard he thought the rules didn’t apply to him. 

He wasn’t moving at all, and his eyes were shut almost as if he was sleeping, just the slow puffs of air indicating he was still alive. Stiles suddenly without thinking, kicked out at him, feeling at spurt of satisfaction at the dull thuds of his boots hitting the sentinels side.

“Arsehole”, he screamed. 

Oh god what was he doing he was hitting an officer of the law, his dad was a cop he would be so ashamed of him. Stiles sighed he couldn’t leave him like this no doubt there would be people looking for him soon. But still he couldn’t leave him. They were close to the other side of the tunnel so he dragged him that way. Wincing at the blood seeping from the sentinels head. No doubt as a sentinel he had a harder head than most he tried to console himself. Rolling him into the recovery position, he swiftly searched his pockets. Smiling triumphantly when he found the car keys. Then his phone, he was already in so much trouble but he couldn’t leave him here like this. All sentinels were egotistical arseholes but still he was a cop too, just like his dad had been. Stiles texted the last number he called, before he changed his mind, glad the sentinel didn’t have a key lock on his phone. 

“HELP, OFFICER DOWN, TRAIN TUNNEL” He texted

There that should do the trick. The phone began ringing angrily. He pressed to receive and then left it in the sentinel’s hand - they would be able to trace the call.

Then he ran through the tunnel, and up the bank, grinning in appreciation at the work of art before him. It was really quite the beauty. And suited the sentinel he had left behind.  
The car purred to life as he started it, far easier to drive than that blasted tank of a pickup, it was so light to the touch, what a dream. With Hendrix blaring out he smiled in appreciation, it had been so long since he had heard Hendrix. A cool car and cool music maybe the sentinel wasn’t such an arsehole after all. Then scolded himself softly , “All sentinels are bad, not to be trusted and should be avoided at all costs.” 

*******************************************

The car was still rolling to a halt, as Derek sprang from the car earning him a muffled oath from his driver. He ignored it, his eyes firmly fixed on the huddle of police offices and paramedics around the prone figure on the ground being slowly carefully lifted onto a stretcher. “You goddamn stupid fool.” He ground out for the umpteenth time. “You stupid stupid fool.” 

“How is he?” he barked out as soon as the stretcher was loaded into the waiting ambulance. He steeled himself for the worst. 

“He’s unconscious, but all vitals are good, no signs of hypothermia so he hasn’t been out here long. There’s a nasty gash on his head which will need stitches. Well know more when we get to the hospital. Do you want to come with us”, the paramedic enquired seeing the look of relief on Derek’s face at his prognosis. 

He closed his eyes, he desperately wanted to go. Then shook his head he knew his responsibility and he wanted to catch this motherfucker. He watched the ambulance disappear and then returned to the scene. Staring grimly at the scarlet patch of red a bright contrast to the dusting of snow. There was blood trails and drag marks leading to the tunnel. But nothing leading away. The tunnel it was then. 

Barking out orders his men fanned out eyes and senses alert. They were all spooked anybody that could get the jump on an alpha sentinel needed to be treated with caution, but to get the jump on Dean a highly focused alpha sentinel with almost legendary status that was a whole new ball game. They upholstered their guns and moved in with perfect precision. 

They took their time, 10 minutes later the area was secure and Derek swore as he realised the significance of the crashed pick up. Clambering to the top of the embankment as he examined the tread marks grimly. 

“Fuck”, he muttered “the bastards taken the impala. He grinned suddenly imaging Dean’s reaction to the theft of his pride and joy, “Dean’s going to go fucking nuts”. He always though Dean was too precious about his baby. 

He reeled out the licence plate number to his officer ignoring his confused look about why he knew Dean’s plate by heart. An APB was put out and cordons relocated accordingly.  
Satisfied that everything was done here he went back to the tunnel. Scrutinising the scene in more detail, Deans gun lying in the dip between the tracks. The safety on ??? The small pool of sick on the gravel… it all just wasn’t adding up. He needed to check in with control and then head to the hospital maybe Dean would be awake by then and he could bounce some ideas around with the chief.

“What a cluster fuck”, he muttered to himself as he made his way back to the car. He glanced up worriedly, it looked like snow was going to hit them finally whether that was a good thing or bad remained to be seen. So far this unsub was three steps ahead of them and had taken out their best hunter.


	2. Ghosts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles on the run, the sentinels running around in circles and Dean seems to be sleeping on the job

Ghosts

The voices had been with Stiles for a while now, sometimes he wondered if he was going crazy. And sometimes it seemed the voices were all that kept away insanity. They soothed him through the worst punishments and the days and sometimes weeks of deprivation. Keeping silent vigil as he screamed and begged through the worst of the experiments. And they told him how to escape…. And …. Even how to kill. 

On automation he had driven the impala as they had directed down him a shoddy dirt track, the falling snow covering the Impala’s tread marks. The voices proving true as he drew up to a small summer holiday home beside an icy lake. There seemed to be no neighbours and the heavy shutters barring the windows proclaimed its deserted status. Like a marionette, he had used a log to bash in the storm basement lock. Finding inside a cosy home, the framed pictures on the flower embossed walls showing a loving family, everything he no longer had. 

‘Sleep, sleep…safe…safe for now”, the voices whispered. 

Stumbling he had crawled to a soft squisy couch covered in a dust sheet. Wrapping himself around with an afghan throw that had been careless left behind, he finally succumbed to his exhaustion. 

He dreamed that night of piercing bright green eyes, a large panther that stared intently at him. 

‘Safe for now’, the panther agreed with a yawn, displaying an impressive set of white killer fangs. ‘Sleep’, it suggested laying its head on its paws, its eyes shutting as it too started to nap. 

He smiled in his sleep the first real smile for years. 

++++++++++++++++++++++

Even with the sirens blaring, and breaking every speed limit, it still took him thirty minutes to reach the hospital. He took the time trying to piece together what he knew. But like a 1000 piece jigsaw with half the pieces missing, none of it made sense. He needed to bounce some ideas of Ellison and hopefully Dean would be awake by now and probably as pissed as hornets fart but hopefully he would be able to ID their unsub. Derek sniggered to himself as he strode down the hospital corridors, imagining Dean’s reaction to the grand theft auto of his beloved Impala. He flashed his badge, nodding in approval at the sentinel cops on duty. Damn good show of strength he thought to himself . Minutes later he was being ushered into a dark room where Dean lay peacefully almost as though he was deep in slumber only the steady beep beep of the heart monitor belayed how serious this was. A low ranking guide doctor gravely explaining to his horror that Dean was in a deep coma. 

He stayed with Dean all night, calling into control for any updates, but he preferred to stay with Dean rather than sleep. Dean he knew would have done the same for him. They  
always looked after each other’s back. Closer then Brothers, more intense than just lovers. If it hadn’t been for their overriding sentinel instincts they would still be together. 

“Here it tastes as bad as it smells”, a foul smelling polystyrene cup was waved under his noses. Derek looked up gratefully too many stake outs as a beat cop, meant that if it was hot and coffee coloured then it was drinkable. He took it from Ellison gratefully almost inhaling the caffeine fix down. Ellison gazed at him sombrely, before easing himself down onto the chair opposite him. Dean lay silent between them. 

“What a clusterfuck.” Derek muttered, he rubbed his face pretending that it was just a bit of grit in his eyes. 

“Yeah”, Ellison politely looked away giving Derek a few minutes to get his shit together. 

“I suppose you are wondering about…”, Derek waved vaguely at Dean and then himself, his attitude just slightly belligerent and defensive only deflating at Ellison’s raised eyebrow. 

“Call myself a prime sentinel, but blow me down if I didn’t see this coming, Blair will be teasing me about this for months.” Ellison smiled.  
Some of the tension eased out of Derek, “Thanks …. It’s just hard you know. No matter how much we felt, the sentinel inside us just wouldn’t let it work. We both agreed we needed to move on, but goddamn, seeing him like this its killing me.” 

Ellison nodded letting Derek talk and talk. Astonished despite himself by this other side of his normally gruff and taciturn second in command. Derek look surprised himself at the flood of words, he looked out the window before visibly pulling himself back together. 

“I called in half an hour ago, no new leads then?”

“No, nothing, I got the reports through, but do you want to fill me in son?” Ellison asked not unkindly.

Derek nodded, recounting everything that had happened, his own thoughts and misgivings about this whole case. 

“Hmmm strange, I agree, nothing is quite adding up and I am afraid your day is not about to improve.”

“I hardly see how it can get much worse.” Derek frowned as he indicated Dean’s prone lifeless figure.

“Unfortunately the news broke this morning, some little shite leaked it to the press. It’s been all over both local and national tv, the press are howling for sentinel blood. Fortunately for once we are the good guys, but the headlines have ranged from sentinel Manhunt to sentinel psycho killer.”

“Christttt….. it’s all gone FUBAR.”

“Yeah, you could say that, the tower is making noises about sending in back up, we have got every tom, dick and harry arming themselves with bear guns as though that would stop a fully engaged sentinel. It’s going to get ugly real soon. The only bright side is we have had reported sightings of the Impala all over the county.”

Derek rolled his eyes “All the usual nutjobs crawling out the woodwork?”

“Uh huh.”

“Awww fuck….. look give me five minutes and I will head off to control.” 

“I need you back up and running and focused?” Ellison posed it as a question.

Derek exhaled, his eyes hardening, he gently squeezed Dean’s hand before getting to his feet, Christ he felt a hundred years old. “You got it. Let’s go and get that son of a bitch.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

He stared at the TV, his hand unconsciously reaching out to caress the cheek of the man on the screen. It was a police passing out photo, Dean Winchester standing stern and proud. The name suited him he thought as the newscaster droned on.

“Sentinel Dean Winchester still under armed sentinel protection, his condition is stable but from sources we have heard that he in a deep unexplainable coma.”

The scene changed to an angry looking bear of a man as he confronted a wall of hungry reporters and the flash of camera’s

“The unsub is question is armed and dangerous and should not be approached under any circumstances, ” he paused dramatically, “and we have reason to believe the person of interest is a sentinel”. The press erupted. 

Stiles pursed his lips” Oh…. Ohhhhhhhh.” His eyes lighting up in silent mirth. 

He glanced outside worriedly at the impala currently covered in some dust sheets with snow piled on top, as the impala picture was flashed on the screen along with a hotline number to call. 

Damn he had no way of knowing how long he had slept, but he figured it was at least a couple of days since he had escaped. The peace he had found in this haven was a blessing. The voices for once silent as he explored the house when he had awoken from his deep slumber. Finding the electrics and for the first time in over 3 years having a hot shower, luxuriating in the hot sting of water as it washed his sins away with the sweet smell of mandarin and mint shower gel. 

In the master bedroom he had used every cream and scent available, lathering himself up until he stunk like a bordello. He had snuggled into the goose feather duvet… and then oh my… he had feasted like a king in the kitchen. The tins of tuna and pineapple chunks, breakfast cereals and even a forgotten out of date chocolate bar that he had let slide down his throat in sheer indulgence. Then had vomited it all back up as his frail stomach rebelled at such rich food. 

He would if he could stay here for ever, safe, silent, no people to hurt and torment him. Only the voices occasionally whispering in his ears. 

Sighing he switched off the tv, he couldn’t stay. He had to leave, if they were still looking for a sentinel he had a chance a real chance to make a clean getaway. Maybe get to a town and catch a bus far far away before the sentinel, before Dean awoke…. If he woke up… his mind whispered traitorously. 

Grumpily he finished dressing, the clothes he was … borrowing…. well mostly summer clothes, he had chosen the best of the lot and had layered as best as he could. He looked decidedly untrendy and definitely a bit weird but hopefully not too strange that he would stand out. The final part of his ensemble was a too large pair of wellington boots, several pairs of socks on to give a snugger fit. He would wear this until he got to town and would ditch it for a pair of canvas snickers. He turned and picked up a rucksack filled to the brim with everything he needed to survive. As much as it pained his he knew he needed money so had stolen some small trinkets too that he could perhaps pawn later. After all what was theft compared to murder! Unfolding a few ripped off pages from a map, he rechecked his route. Okay maybe 10 to 15 miles across country and he would hit the small town of little Durham. Piece of cake!

Sighing he gave one yearning glance back at the house that had been his sanctuary these last few days, before determinedly striding forward into the snow. The Impala lying forlornly in its snow covered shroud.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Ellison looked at Blair grimly. “I should have called you in days ago… but I thought… it was just his damns stubborn head… well it doesn’t matter what I thought… I think you are his only chance now Blair.”

Blair observed Dean through the viewing window, one eyebrow lifting in surprise. “Derek’s here?”

Ellison snorted, “Yeah seems like all that bullshit posturing between the two of them was just that.”

“Oh my”, murmured Blair thoughtfully, “Okay let me do my mojo.”

Squaring his shoulders, he knocked politely on the door and entered. Derek stood up his face distraught, wiping his tears away unashamedly. Ellison watched on as they exchanged a few words and then Blair reached up cupping his cheek as he soothed the sentinel as only a clan guide could. Once Derek was calm, he turned back to Dean. His face intense in concentration as he ghosted his fingers along Dean’s face, finally placing two fingers on either side of his forehead. Several minutes passed and then Blair jumped back in surprise, his body stiffening in shock. His eyes seeking out Ellison in confusion and maybe a hint of fear. 

The heart monitor for Dean continued its steady beep, beep, beep. Unchanged and unrelenting.

“What’s wrong?” 

Blair shook his head, “Deans not here, his body … it’s not possible….”, he whirled around “I need to see Sentinel’s Hales house, take me there NOW.”

“It’s midnight Blair and 3 hours’ drive in these conditions.”

“Get the chopper, we have to leave now.”

Derek and Ellison exchanged a long look, before he unclipped his radio. 

The trip was made in silence, Blair his face pinched and worried, oblivious to his mate’s concern and rising agitation, as he was escorted between the two large sentinels to the Hale residency. 

It had been 2 days since Ellison had last been here, the crime scene fully processed and all the evidence bagged and removed. Now it was just a burnt out husk.

Blair moved around the house his hands ghosting over objects, stopping every few steps and breathing deep. 

“Be quiet”, he hissed suddenly, making the two sentinels uncross their arms and look at each other concern. 

“What?”

“Not you… goddammit.. just let me in… I can help .. “ Blair swore and then shook his head “So be it… where’s my bag.”

“Oh god you are going to do your freaky stick thing aren’t you?” Ellison grumbled. 

“Maybe… well… yes.” 

“I want cookies when I get home”, groused Ellison, watching in irritation as Blair started drawing a white chalk circle, and positioning creepy dolls and weird smelling pouches within the circle.

“Sit down, shut up and don’t move.” Blair ordered impatiently, ignoring the two sentinels as they sighed in unison and settled themselves against what was left of the kitchen wall. 

Something had pissed Blair off and he was in his I am in charge mode. Best of they didn’t get caught in the firing line.  
The minutes ticked by as Blair chanted and waved weird mumbo jumbo stuff around. Derek looking increasing bored and irritated. It was thirty minutes into Blair’s mumbo jumbo that Ellison realised something was wrong, something was badly wrong.

“Blair”, he whispered in Concern. Frowning as his mate, his guide remained silent and still. To silent. He focused in on him not liking the vitals he was picking up from Blair.  
Derek too had come away from the wall, his eyes narrowing. 

“Fuck this”, Ellison snarled, ignoring the chalk circle as he reached across, lightly slapping and then shaking Blair. His eyes widening in alarm as Blair remained unresponsive. His skin becoming cold and waxy.

“GODDAMN IT BLAIR, me and you are going to have words about your freaky shit stuff”. 

Ellison closed his eyes, centering himself as he called his panther. His mind reaching out to the strong golden bond that linked him to his mate. The panther came with a growl of ferocious anger, thundering over plains and mountains of the subconscious, his mate was in danger. PROTECT. 

The panther came to a leafy clearing, his mate cowering inside a circle of white glowing stones. As wraithe like apparitions swooped around him, screeching and wailing. It was the scratches down Blair’s cheek that made Ellison and his panther lose all control. 

With a roar, Panther and man pounced, fangs and claws extended all in defence of his mate. Ready to rip and rend, as his bloodlust descended.  
The Phantoms shrieks turned to whimpering and pitiful sobs as they cowered away from the full force of his wrath.

A touch on the ruff of his fur – Blair - his mate, both gentling him and giving him the control and balance he needed. 

Blair rubbed his face into his fur. “I Love you”, he said simply. Three small words allowing the panther’s fury to slowly abate.

Blair turned and faced the wraiths, his face sad and compassionate as tears trickled down his face, “ Its okay … you don’t need to stay… you can rest now… go in peace, I will show you the way.”

The phantoms and now Blair could see them more closely seemed to be almost childlike as they clutched at each other. Almost looking hopeful at Blair’s calm words. As he sang to them of peace and serenity.

Guide and Sentinel opened their eyes simultaneously, Blair collapsing into Ellison’s arms. 

“What the fuck Blair?”

“Im sorry, I’m so sorry… I didn’t want to hurt them you see, they have already suffered so much, so much pain… but there was more of them than I thought and somebody else has given them strength.”

Ellison shook him incensed and speechless, before hugging him as though he would never let go. Uncaring that Derek was unobtrusively trying to look the other way.  
It took several long minutes before Blair collected himself. Gently he disengaged Ellison’s iron grip and staggered towards a small blackened cupboard. Derek and Ellison looking in bemusement as he gripped and ineffectively tried to rip away blackened shelves. Before they rolled up their sleeves to help him. 

It took the sentinels mere minutes to make matchsticks of the wall. Then they stared in shock at the metal almost submarine type door inset into the cavity. 

“How did we miss this?” questioned Derek in disbelief echoing Ellison’s own thoughts, how the hell did they miss this, they were sentinels for Christ sake. 

Blair reached forward to turn the wheel lock. Stilling as Ellison laid a hand on top of his. 

“Wait, are those things going to be down there?”

“Yes, I have only eased their pain, but it will need a full shamanic ritual to let them rest fully. But its okay, |I am stronger, far stronger than they are and besides “, he added with a crooked sad smile “they are more scared of you now – the big bad panther.”

With a sick feeling in their bellies, they cracked open the heat warped door, the smell of burnt meat assailing their noses as they descended the stairs into the pit of madness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like
> 
> It took me ages to write this chapter - so pretty please , take a few minutes and let me know your thoughts xxx


	3. Run Rabbit Run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The noose tightens and will Dean ever wake up

It had started out so wonderfully this morning, a day full of bright sunshine making the snow look so pretty and new.   A pristine day full of promise.  He had been giddy with excitement as he had thrown off his sense of unease and depression.  Frolicking in the snow and laughing with pure unadulterated pleasure, as he had ambled along his chosen path.   But after hours of trudging through thick unrelenting snow, every step now seemed to be like walking through molasses, sapping his strength and spirit.  The sheer whiteness of the snow actually hurt his eyes, and the cold seeped through his flimsy clothing and boots. 

Sighing he collapsed on a log, and rethought his options.  ‘Goddammit’.  He mumbled under his breath.  He used to be the county cross country junior champion.  A five mile run had been a piece of cake to him. But after years of captivity, despite the Pilates he had practiced in his cage he had no endurance left no stamina.   His ambitious plan of walking to the next town, it might as well have been the moon.  He would never make it by nightfall and in his flimsy clothing he would freeze. 

“Goddamit,” he whispered again.  His eyes narrowed why was he whispering?  He was free of that … that man.. that pig.  He didn’t need to be quiet…… he could… he could scream, he could shout… he could….

“GODDAMMIT”. 

His eyes widened, ohmhygod… he had done it.

“GODDAMMIT…… FUCKKKKKKK….  YEAH GODDAMMIT… BLOODY SNOW… BLOODY SENTINELS…. FUCKKKKKKKK…. I’M FREEEEEEE”.

He stopped, gasping for breath, exhilarated and grinning like a child.

“YEAYYYYYYY……. FUCK YOUUUUUUUUU”. 

His last words reverberated in the still country air and Stiles stopped feeling just a tad silly. He was alone, all alone he knew this.  But still he had a strange feeling as though somebody or something was with him.  He could almost feel their snort of amusement.  Maybe it was his ghost companions though they had been unusually quiet over the last few days.  As though giving him the space to come alive again.     

“I am alive, and my name is Stiles”.  Stiles gave himself a mental shake, and studied his half crumpled map. 

There!

A shortcut to the road.  A mile at the most.  Maybe an hour at his current speed.  If he could make it there he could hitch a lift into town.  Make up a story about getting lost, he could do the poor ignorant lost townie very well.   And if they tried anything, well he smiled grimly as he fingered the 10” butchers knife he had taken from the house. 

It took him over an hour, and Stiles berated his lack of stamina.  But he made it and god bless kindly little old grannies who would stop for strangely dressed waifs on the side of the road.  Stiles managed to avoid or detract most of the old lady’s well intentioned concern as to what he was doing so far from town.   And he enjoyed the normality of the drive, listening to the radio and trying to make idle chat with Mrs McKenzie, who had over 8 grandchildren with another on their way, a husband that had died last fall and a sheepdog called Sammy who was partial to chasing cars.   

They reached the town as night was falling, and Stiles hopped off at the bus station waving away the concern of his benefactor. 

It took him minutes to realise he had missed all the buses out of town for that day.  Unless he hitch hiked, and it was unlikely he would find another sympathetic Mrs McKenzie, he needed to find a safe place to hole up for the night.  He would get the afternoon bus to Seattle if he had enough money, and then see if he could lose himself in the city for a while or try and put more distance between him and this place and get across the border.

* * *

 

Derek swore, then hawked into the snow.  Trying to get the taste and smell of that hellhole out of his system.   He felt tainted by the evil he had seen.  Yards away Ellison was crouched protectively over his mate, as Blair systematically emptied his guts out. 

As a police officer he had seen worst that humanity could do.  But this was a whole new level.  Christ they should be giving a medal to Peter Hales attacker.  He closed his eyes, the image of those iron cages and that one lone blackened husk.  The large steel room had acted like an oven. No way to even tell the sex it was so badly… he tried to think of a word… and only cooked came to mind.    He retched and spat bile into the snow, it would be a long time before he would be able to enjoy a roast he thought inconsequentially. 

“I’ll call it in”, he shouted to Ellison.

“NO”, Blair jumped to his feet, face white, a drool of spit and vomit dripping down his chin.  “NO, don’t … not yet.”

“Blair”, Ellison held his mate gently as he tried to soothe him, “we need to get forensics down here, once they have finished I promise you can sing them to their rest or whatever freaky shit you need to do”. He half-heartedly joked trying to defuse the tension.

“No.”   Blair looked around wildly, “you don’t understand, you don’t see what was down there, what was happening.”

“Torture dungeon? It seems pretty clear to me.”

“You don’t see, you don’t see at all”, Blair murmured sadly. “It wasn’t a torture chamber, well it was, but it was also a laboratory.  Peter Hale was experimenting on mundanes, sentinels and if my  suspicions are correct even guides.”

Derek and Ellison looked at each other in shock.  “NO… no  he wouldn’t , guides are scarce, he wouldn’t be able to, he was a sentinel.”  Derek protested.  His mind in revolt at the thought of any guide being tortured. 

“And yet the evidence is down there.”

There was a stunned silence as the two men tried to process the implications of Blair’s accusations.

“Look, during the war, the Nazi’s conducted thousands of experiments on innocent victims of the concentration camps.  Horrific experiments from things like drowning, hypothermia, drug trials. Christ they even tried to sew twins together.   When the war ended the allies had a choice - destroy all the so called research or use them.  They decided that what was done was done, better to honour those that died.  They looked, they opened Pandora’s box.  It saved lives sure, but at what cost. Another chip at our humanity.  Another line crossed.”

“Blair, this isn’t the same, he was a sick man, but it’s not the same.”

“I was at a conference when I was still a student, there was a bunch of highbrow anthropology professors from Europe debating some hereditary disease. ….one of them said that Mengele was a genius and had been close to finding a cure and that the Russians were duplicating his work. … Christ not one of them was outraged, they just blinked and carried on.”

Blair took a deep breath.

“Down there in that room, Peter Hale was experimenting.  Those poor souls that suffered and died.  Peter Hale will have followers, people that will believe that the end justified the means.  That will try and duplicate his work.  We can’t allow that to happen. We can’t allow people to sanitise what’s happened here.”

“Jesus Blair, you are asking me to break the law, to break everything I stand for.  Christ what if there is evidence in there we need… No we can’t…I can’t do it Blair.”

“Blair’s right.” 

Blair and Ellison looked at Derek in surprise. 

“This is fucked up shit, but if we are going to do anything we need to do it now.   What’s your plan?”

Blair bit his lip “Remove his laptop, take the notebooks, remove the obvious scientific apparatus.  There’s enough there that it will just look like a madman’s torture fetish.  I’ll read the notebooks and if I find any relevant information of use I’ll pass it on.  Then I will destroy everything.”  Blair paused “And I will never undertake any research again.”

“Jesus, Blair that’s your life”.

“No my life is with you, and I still have teaching.” Blair added reflectively, “There is always a price to pay Ellison.”

They shared a look so deep, so intense that Derek had to look away.

Ellison shook his head sadly, “Okay we have 30 minute window I guess we better move fast.”

“Hold a sec what about Dean? And our missing Sentinel unsub?” 

“It’s a Guide, sorry did I not mention that before.” Blair smirked innocently, as he leant back to enjoy the look of surprise and then shock in both men’s faces.

* * *

 

 “I know I sound like a silly old lady.  It’s just officer he was all alone out there, and the way he was dressed, he looked like a refugee, all skin and bone bundled up in cast offs.  I think he’s in some sort of trouble.”

“Uh huh and you dropped him off at Cascade Bus station?”

“Yes he was very adamant about it.  I couldn’t dissuade him; he’s a stubborn little thing but bright as a button and ever so polite.  Not something you see in the young these days.  He’s come from a good family.”

“Ahh Okayyyy…and you didn’t get his full name just Stiles?”

“No dear.”

“Hmmm well there’s nobody matching his description from missing persons. I’ll ask the patrols to keep an eye out for him.   But even if we locate him there’s nothing really we can do, if he refuses help, except charge him with vagrancy.  We can take him to a half way home if he’s a run away and they have room.”

“Oh no dear I don’t want to get him into trouble.  If he has nowhere to stay you bring him round to me. Do you hear me?”

The officer sighed “Now Ma’am you can’t just go about taking any waif and stray in.  The chief would have my head for sure.”

“Don’t you Ma’am me officer!  I knew the chief when he was in shorts stealing apples from my backyard.  You tell him Elsie gives her regards and just bring that boy to me.”

Mrs McKenzie gave him her fiercest look.  It never failed to quail her husband when he was still alive, and it seemed she hadn’t lost it, as the officer almost sprang to attention. 

“Errr yes Ma’am.”

Mrs McKenzie gave him a stern look, before nodding imperiously and marched out of the station.  The young officer at the desk drooped, groaning into his hand, “Gawd save me from old ladies.”

“Hey Mike,” he shouted to a passing patrol man.  “Can you put the word out for a young lad, late teens, Caucasian, brown eyes, possibly brown hair, average height, thin looks starved, wearing black hat and dressed like a refugee, with a blue canvas rucksack and green wellies.  Last seen at the bus station. Goes by the name of Stiles.”

“Sure, you want me to bring him in?”

“Yeah. It’s the chief’s great aunt or something, got a bee in the bonnet about this boy, thinks he’s in trouble and running from some sort of abuse.  Bring him in and the chief can handle it when he gets back.”

* * *

 

Blair drew out the worn, filthy blanket from the plastic evidence bag.  “Please let this work.”  He pleaded under his breath.  He had no idea what he was doing, just going on instinct and flying by the seat of his pants.  But he had a hunch that somehow, some way Dean had formed a partial bond with their missing guide in that tunnel.  And didn’t that put a whole spanner in the works for his mate. 

“Hopefully even with the oven like conditions there should be just enough scent left in the old blanket, for this to trigger some sort of reaction.” He addressed Derek and his mate who were hovering like mother hens over the two of them.  He could understand his mate’s apprehension considering how he had been attacked earlier in the spirit world.  But Derek, the taciturn and gruff Derek, behaving like a besotted fool over Dean – he was still having trouble processing that thought.

Carefully he draped the blanket over Dean’s lower face, and then placed his hands on his forehead.  Leaning down he started to whisper.  His eyes closed in concentration as he worked on his mojo. Calling Dean back from wherever his spirit was happily hanging out. 

It seemed to be working as Dean’s eyes started to flutter and the heart rate monitor showed an increasing beep beep beep.  But still he didn’t wake up. And Blair started to despair.  If this didn’t work, the only chance they would have is to find the guide, which considering the only one currently who could identify him was comatose, wasn’t an encouraging thought.

“For Christ sake Dean, Wake the fuck up.” Howled Derek as he lost all patience with the delicate proceedings.  Reaching out, he man thumped Dean on the head.

“Jesus”, screeched Blair.  Then jumped back, as Dean almost catapulted into a stiff upright position.  His eyes wide and glassy.

“WHAT THE FUCK”, he croaked.  He looked around wildly at the hospital equipment, and then his chief and Blair.  Before his eyes narrowed accusingly on Derek.

“Did you hit me!”

A nanosecond later a shocked Dean was engulfed by his overjoyed friends.

* * *

 

“Sooo let me get this right, I’ve been asleep for over 3 days now, you’ve lost my unsub who is a guide and I figured that out myself thank you very much.  Who was kept captive by Peter Hale as some sort of sick experiment, and I have a catheter up my dick.”

“Yep that pretty much covers it. We are hoping you can fill us in on this guide.”

“No idea what he or she looks like, I got a flash of brown terrified eyes then nadda.  Complete zone out.  But whoever this guide is, it’s still salvageable.  They saved me.”

“Perhaps, it will certainly help with the tower if you have a partial bond, if that is you don’t want to break it.”

Dean’s hands tightened on Derek’s, “Maybe, I don’t know.  I just feel this huge instinct to find my guide, drag them back to my lair and protect.  Caveman I know, but I can’t shake it.” He looked apologetically at Derek. 

  “Would it help if you knew your guide has the same taste in cars?” Derek tried unsuccessfully to hide his grin, as Dean’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What?”

“Your sweet guide stole your car.”

Dean paled “My baby?” he asked weakly.

“Yep, we have had an APB out since it happened.  But not one sighting so far.  We reckon they must have either ditched it or they are hunkered down somewhere.  We have patrols checking abandoned buildings and ditches, but its slow going.”

Dean huffed, “Well sweet cheeks, good job daddy’s back on the case.  I fitted a GPS anti theft tracking device last summer.  Give me five minutes to get out of here and let’s go guide hunting.”

Derek stared at him in amazement, “God I missed you.”  But he looked sad as he went out the room hollering for a nurse for his friend.

Dean gazed after him, his own eyes misty.

“Christ I could murder a Big Mac.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soory its been so long. Lost my mojo. 
> 
> Tell me whta youi think, if i should continue... is there anybody still out there reading this :-)


	4. The noose tightens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The net closes in on Stiles. And the sentinels find out more about Stiles

* * *

It was like watching a mama bear being reunited with her cub, thought Derek in amused disbelief as he watched Dean anxiously flitter about his car checking for bumps and scrapes. 

“Finished?” 

He got two fingers in response.  Sighing he made his way into the summer holiday chalet.  Owned by a Mr & Mrs Deacon from New York.  It was a tidy homily house and surprising their fugitive guide hadn’t trashed it.  Rubbish had been carefully packed away into bags and the bed freshly made.  Though judging from the severely depleted bottles of shower gel and bubble bath and the sweet cloying artificial smell of bubble-gum and fruit it seemed their Guide had indulged themselves. 

But the guide was long gone now.  He took a deep breath , steadying himself letting his senses expand as he took in the scene.  Cataloguing everything he could about their unsub.  Empty tin of peaches, Smell of vomit around the toilet – possible sickness?? Books disturbed on the landing – the guide had handled these as though long lost friends.  Strands of hair and stains on the bedding – tears, salvia?  He signalled to the forensic team to swab and moved on.  Disturbed clothing, empty space in the boot rack, no dust.  The only one act vandalism the smashed mirror in the bedroom as though they couldn’t bear to look at themselves.   A whole plethora of information engulfing him as he rode the intense waves of his senses.  Burnt smell in the kitchen, disinfectant, tuna and for some odd reason chocolate.  And underlying this the earthy scent of their guide.  Soft and very faint now but he had their scent and from the sounds of Dean shouting at the forensics to keep back as he checked the inside of his car so did he.  He grinned, it felt good to be on a hunt, even better to be buddying up with Dean for what looked like one last time.

He spread a map on the table, trying to figure out what their guides next step would be.  It would be best if they could do a quick precision hit, cut the guide off and swoop in with no warning.  He still wasn’t quite sure what this Guide had done to Dean but he didn’t want to take any chances.  

His phoned trilled, the opening tune of mission impossible starting.  Bloody Dean had been at his phone again. 

“Chief?”

“How’s it going?”

He filled the chief in, the house had been ridiculously easy to locate and now with the sun rising they could start a hunt proper. 

“I’m keeping an embargo on our unsub guide status for now.  You have maybe 5 – maybe 10 hours max grace.  I want this all tied up by supper.  Or it could get ugly real fast.”

“Yes chief.”

The chief sighed into the phone, “Be careful with this guide. Blair’s been reading the notebooks and … and it’s not good son, not good at all.  This Guide is maybe too damaged, too twisted by what’s happened.  And the Zone out, Blair has an idea about that but if this Guide can turn a sentinel’s senses against himself …” He left the sentence unsaid. 

“Will you be joining the hunt?”

“No, Blair’s got me holding candles and some flowers for him,” replied Ellison disgruntled.  “He’s doing his freaky stuff again.”

“Christ so soon?”

“Yeah he thinks it may help, he thinks these spirits have somehow formed a link with the guide.  Possibly they have been helping.  He has a theory if he can lay them to rest it may help…. Of course it could drive this guide even more crazy.”

“Jesus.”

“Yeah.  Let Dean take point, but I want you to keep a close to him.  Don’t leave his side for a minute and don’t let your feelings cloud your judgement.  Your protective instincts and especially Deans will be high so keep it tight. This maybe a guide but it’s still an unsub who has in cold blood slaughtered a prime sentinel.”

“Understood chief.”

A grunt and the phone went dead.  Neither of them thinking it was a strange way to end a phone conversation.

“Hey sweetcheeks.”

Derek growled, “DEAN?”  He glowered at his team as they hastily turned away trying to hide their smiles.  Dean stood in the doorway innocently, eyes twinkling as he waited for Derek to react.

“Should have left you in the hospital.”

Dean grinned his teeth white as he took another chomp out of a burger – was that his sixth or seventh this morning? 

“Got a trail, pretty fresh maybe 12 hours, snows not covered it yet, so let’s say we vamoose and go catch us a Guide?”

* * *

 

Stiles was frozen, he had crammed himself into a disabled cubicle in the ladies toilets, holding his feet up when the attendant had checked before locking the toilets for the night.  It was cold damp and smelly but he had had over 3 years of worse.   He ate the last of his provisions trying to eck out the last tin of peaches.  He didn’t sleep as his ghosts returned swooping and wailing telling him to run, not understanding he couldn’t run just yet.  He was safe if he kept his cool for just a little while longer.  Eventually they quietened, and he fell into a fitful sleep as they stood vigil over him. 

He woke to the sound of voices, so surprised he had jerked upright his head hitting the cubicle wall.  The dull thud a damning statement in the silence that followed.

A polite knock on the door, “is somebody there.”  It wasn’t a question.

Shit!

Levering himself up he pasted on a bright smile.

“Ohmygod I’ve been waiting hours, the doors jammed I can’t get out.  Been shouting all night.”   Stiles gave a convincing sniff and snuffle.  His voice breaking at the end.  An Oscar winning performance.

“Oh Ma’am- just you hold on there we will have you out in a jiffy.”  The lady ran off returning almost immediately with what was obviously a supervisor.  The sound of a screwdriver as they tried to disengage the locking mechanism.  Stiles held the lock for a few seconds straining to hold it firm then letting it go with a ping as the door flew open. 

“I thought I would be there for ever.” Exclaimed Stiles dramatically, his slight body giving a shudder of revulsion. 

The two ladies looked at him with varying degrees of suspicion.  Stiles smiled innocently, giving each startled woman a warm hug, “Oh thank you, thank you.  It was so scary.  I hope nobody gets into any trouble - by the time I realised I was stuck they had locked me in.”

“It wasn’t us, it would be the evening crew, slipshod team, this wouldn’t have happened on my watch”, the older lady said crossly.

Stiles shrugged, as he wiped away a pretend tear, pulling his ruck sack over his shoulder, “Well I better get going.  All’s well that ends well, as my grandma used to say.” He sauntered out the toilets, trying to act natural.  He had a few hours to wait but if he kept his head down he would be home free in a few hours.  Oh dear God please let him get away. 

Hours passed and Stiles took to reading the peach tin can, memorising the words, then rescuing a discarded newspaper he devoured the latest news.  Chuckling to himself on the hunt for the Psycho Sentinel killer.  Oh boy… these cops must be the dumbest ever. 

The hours flew by as he read every single article even the lonely hearts column and advertisements.  Loving the normality of the reading a newspaper… goddamnit a real god to honest newspaper. 

As the clock turned 12 he made his way to the ticket office.  Act natural, act natural he chided himself.  Smiling his most innocent and sunny smile, as he made sure his hat was firmly pulled down over his shaved stubbly head. 

“Single to Seattle please”. As he counted out the last of the dollars from Peter Hales wallet. 

The man barely gave him a second glance as he printed off his ticket.  God bless bored ticket officers he thought gleefully. 

He turned and then froze, across the waiting room, the two cleaning ladies were in deep conversation with two cops, pointing him out with excitable hands.  Almost from here he could see the way the cop scanned him from top to bottom, his eyes confirming something in his notebook.

“Excuse me Miss, can I have a word.”

The officer a large man, started walking towards him, he had big hands he noted idly, hands that could hurt him, could drag him back. 

He bolted.  On spindly legs and as fleet as a colt he ran.  The spirits flew with him. 

“POLICE, STOP”.  The words heavy with authority as the man chased him down.

The bang of a luggage trolley and the muffled oaf as the officer tripped over it, the spirits whooping in glee, before telling him to run faster, then to turn, left then right out into the streets they took him.  Down alley ways and through the park.  The bus station far behind him. 

He collapsed, his chest wheezing, trying not to puke up his carefully savoured peaches.

* * *

 

“What is that?” 

“It’s a snow angel.”

“Christ.”

Dean was sombre as he looked down at the snow, remembering when as a kid he had spent hours with his brother making snow angels and abominable snowmen in the back yard.  His mother scolding them for getting so wet, before wrapping them up in warm blankets and giving them hot chocolate with marshmallows in front of crackling fire.  That was the last year he had made a snow angel, his mother died that winter and life had changed inexorable.  But at least he had snow angels looking at Derek’s confused face he had never even had a snow angel. Knowing what he knew of Derek’s childhood he shouldn’t be surprised, and it pained him to think of his friend, his lover having such a lonely childhood.

“Hey when this is all over me and you, going to have a slam dunk snowball fight.”

Derek smirked “You think you can take me?”

“Anytime sweet cheeks, anytime.”

Derek gave a gruff snort but he was smiling as he turned away.  “Hey look at this”, he knelt down dusting off some snow, he unearthed a mound of mismatch of objects.  A treasure trove it seemed of tinned food, trinkets, and other stuff.

“Looks like our guide got tired, sat down here to rest.  Footsteps have been getting slower closer together, almost dragging along.  Fatigue is setting in.  Dumped this stuff. Yeah yeah I can see it, sits down feels hopeless, lonely…. Then hmmm this is strange changed direction.”  Dean buzzed around eyes narrowed as he analysed the scene.  The hunter in him, sensing his prey had changed tactics. 

“Awww shit.”

“What?”

“Our guide had a map, must have realised they would never make it they have headed for the road.  It’s a mile, two miles tops. They probably hitched a lift.”

“Should I call the copter in?”

“Yeah they are long gone.”  He paused “They would have learnt from their mistake realised they couldn’t make it on foot.  They may hitchhike but only local traffic around here.  Cascade, they will be in Cascade.  Get the copter in and set the roadblocks up around cascade.” 

“You sure?”

“Ha I can smell it I’m this close, train station… no no… little money try the bus station.” 

Derek raised his eyebrow, but lifted the radio and called in the helicopter.  Ten minutes later they were in the air heading towards Cascade.  Roadblocks were being set up.  Cascade was now cut off. 

* * *

 

“I don’t know how you talk me into these things Blair.”  Ellison grouched grumpily. His eyes tearing up with the heady smell of eucalyptus.  “Jesus I’m crying like a baby.”

Blair rolled his eyes, his face pale and drawn with exhaustion. “It’s done, they are at rest now, You better call Derek.  The Guide his names Stiles, and he’s going to be pretty messed up now.  They need to pick him up fast.”   

“Stiles huh?”

* * *

 

“STILES… Stilesssss…. Stiless……Stiles….. Stiles… we go now.”   Their voices carried on the wind, hauntingly sad.

“No what do you mean?... don’t leave me , don’t leave me… Don’t leave me alone.” Stiles panicked his eyes wide with fear.  They were his bedrock.  His only companion through years of madness and pain.

“We go, it is time, we love you.  Its time.”

“Noooooo No nooo noooo please please please don’t.”  Stiles pleaded, his heart racing, tears streaming down his face as he sobbed and screamed.

“Run Stiles they are coming for you. Runnnnnn”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks guys for all the comments and Kudos. It really helped me put pen to paper and get this chapter out fast :-)
> 
> so please please as Oliver Twist once said so well... can I have some more ...


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